`Where is Robard?' Luke glanced at his watch yet again. `It can't take them that long to come to a decision.'

'Philippe did tell us that some of the directors are keen on giving the contract to a French firm.'

`I'm offering them a better deal,' Luke countered, as if trying to convince her. `They have to give it to us. We've got the experience and the expertise.'

`You haven't had experience dealing with Frenchmen, though,' Kate said, playing devil's advocate.

`No, but you have,' Luke said nastily, `judging by how you dealt with Xavier last night!'

The door opened before Kate had a chance to point out that there was no need for him to take out his nervousness on her, and Philippe Robard came in.

`Please accept my apologies, Monsieur Hardman,' he said, shaking hands with them both. `I have kept you waiting, but the board has, at last, come to a decision. We will accept your proposal.'

Luke drew a deep breath of relief, and then smiled. `Thank you,' he said simply.

`I have to admit that there was opposition to using an untried English firm, but Xavier and I were able to persuade them that with the involvement of Mademoiselle Finch there would be no problems of communication.'

Delighted, Kate glanced at Luke, but after that first betraying smile he had his excitement well under control and was calmly agreeing to discuss details of the next stage of the contract at a later date, so she maintained a businesslike front as well while Philippe escorted them courteously downstairs and said goodbye to them on the steps.

Without saying a word, Luke and Kate began to walk sedately away, but, once out of sight of Philippe, Luke stopped.

`He gave us the contract,' he said, as if he had only just realised.

`Yes, he did.' Kate smiled at his expression. `He must have liked my dress after all!'

At that, Luke swung her into his arms with an exuberant laugh. `We did it!' he exulted, and Kate laughed delightedly, caught up in the excitement.

They both became aware at the same time how close he was holding her, but Luke didn't release her immediately. Instead he looked down into her bright face, and his own smile faded while a much more disturbing light began to burn in his eyes.

For a long moment they just stared at each other, then Luke's hands tightened against her.

He's going to kiss me, Kate thought in panic, knowing that she would not be able to resist and terrified of how revealing her response would be.

But he didn't kiss her. He released her slowly, almost reluctantly. `I nearly forgot,' he said.

`What?' asked Kate, horrified at how husky her voice sounded.

`Strictly business. That's how you wanted to keep things, wasn't it?'

He looked at her closely, almost as if he was waiting for her to disagree, but Kate nodded. It was better this way. `Yes,' she said.

`You said it was more sensible.'

It was. Hard, but sensible. `Yes,' she said again.

There was a tiny pause. Luke folded the collar of her jacket down and patted it in place. `We'd better celebrate,' he said after a moment.

He took her to a cafe in a small cobbled courtyard near the hotel, where they drank a bottle of Sauvignon and ate goat's cheese with a rye bread that was hard and dry and delicious. The momentary awkwardness had passed and they talked easily, planning how the contract would work and what changes would need to be made in the office.

It was too cold to sit outside, so they chose a small round table in the window. Kate moved her glass around on the plastic top, leaving interlocking damp circles until Luke told her not to make such a mess and wiped it up with a paper napkin.

Kate was happy, she realised with a small shock of surprise. Luke was more likely to break her heart than ever return her love, but here in this warm cafe, with Paris passing by outside and the brusque difficult man absorbed in his work on the other side of the table, she was content.

Resting her crossed arms on the table, she leant forward and gazed out of the window. Two old ladies, identically dressed in black, stood and gossiped on the cobbles. One had a tartan shopping trolley, and a long loaf of French bread stuck out at a jaunty angle. The other seemed to be complaining with much gesticulating and shrugging and grimacing.

Kate's autumn-coloured eyes were soft, and a faint smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she watched the scene.

`What's so funny?' Luke asked.

`I'm just happy,' she said simply.

'Hmmnn.' Luke gave her a look of mock suspicion. `I never thought any secretary of mine would describe herself as happy. Most of them seemed to spend half their time in tears, complaining that I bullied them,' he remembered morosely.

Laughter danced in her eyes. `You probably did.'

`I bully you, but you don't cry.'

`Perhaps I should!'

`Please don't. I never had the patience to deal with the watering-pots. As far as I was concerned, if they couldn't put up with a little shouting. they shouldn't have been working for me.' He paused and studied Kate's face thought fully. `I've been through no less than twelve secretaries in the last two years alone. You're the only one who's ever stood up to me.'

`Well, you're not so bad,' Kate teased. She felt absurdly happy. Careful, she warned herself. Keep things light. It would be easy to blurt out how much she loved him and spoil everything. At least this way she could be near him during the day. `I get to sit in a Paris cafe every now and then. I'm easily pleased.'

Luke hesitated, then reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a small, beautifully wrapped box. `Since you're so easy to keep happy, I suppose I don't need to give you this, but I'd like you to have it.' He put it on the table in front of her and Kate stared down at it in astonishment. `I was going to give it to you when we got back to London,' he explained a little awkwardly. `It's to thank you for helping me to get the contract. I know I wouldn't have been able to do it without you.' '

`But Luke…' Kate didn't know what to say. She picked up the little box as if it were very fragile. `You really didn't need to. I was just doing my job.'

`If you can call your performance last night doing your job…!' Both of them were glad to ease the embarrassment with laughter. `They wrapped it in the shop,' Luke went on as she pulled at the curled ribbon.

`I rather thought they might have done!' It was impossible to imagine Luke's massive hands managing anything as fiddly as this delicate wrapping.

The paper fell away to reveal a small leather jeweller's box. With a startled look at Luke, Kate opened it carefully. An exquisite brooch lay on a bed of silk. It was rather an old-fashioned design, with simple scrolls of gold on either side of a lustrous pearl.

Kate felt tears sting her eyes. `It's beautiful,' she said huskily.

`I thought you might use it to pin the cleavage on that black dress together,' Luke said severely, but he was clearly pleased at her reaction. Seeing Kate's mouth tremble, he added, `You're not going to turn into a watering-pot after all?'

'No.' Kate shook her head so that the shining hair bounced, and sniffed unromantically. Pushing back her chair, she half stood to lean over the table and lay her palm against his face. `Thank you,' she murmured, and kissed his cheek. His skin was tantalisingly rough, with a clean, indefinably male scent.

Luke's hand came up to cover hers, and tightened over it as she pulled away, so that he was still holding it as she sat down, suddenly shy.

`You never wear any jewellery,' he said, turning her hand over and inspecting her fingers. `Why is that?'

`I'm afraid I've got expensive tastes,' Kate said a little unsteadily. She was excruciatingly aware of his warm touch. His fingers were strong and dry, slightly rough against the smoothness of hers. `I'd rather not wear anything until I have something worth wearing-like this brooch.'

`It's a pity. You've got beautiful hands. I noticed them the first time I met you. You never paint your nails, do you? They're just cut short and kept very clean.' He rubbed his thumb over one of her nails experimentally.

Only their fingertips were touching, but Kate could feel desire quivering deep inside her. Her skin tingled and her face grew hot as longing shivered along her veins, clenching her stomach with the steady, insistent tug of physical yearning.

`Perhaps someone will buy you some rings some day,' he went on.

`Perhaps,' she croaked, then cleared her throat hastily.

Luke's eyes were unreadable. `Make sure he doesn't buy you diamonds. Diamonds are too hard for you. You need warmer stones, rubies or emeralds or pearls. Or topaz, to match your eyes.'

With a supreme effort Kate pulled her hand away. `It's not an immediate problem,' she said shortly. He wasn't being fair. Didn't he know how her heart soared just to be near him? Couldn't he see how she burned at his touch?

She was his secretary. She must remember that. Cool. Sensible. Businesslike. Wasn't that how she had decided to be? Wasn't that how she was?

Kate closed the lid of the box and turned it slowly between her hands, her head bent so that all Luke could see was the dark sweep of her lashes against the clear skin.

`No, I suppose not,' he said in a flat voice.

The companionable atmosphere had tensed, and the silence that fell jangled uneasily between them. Kate found that she was holding the box too tightly, and put it down, hiding her hands beneath the table in case Luke should see their shaking.

She stared blindly down at the plastic ashtray advertising Gauloises. Luke's face danced in front of her eyes: firm nose, firm mouth, firm jaw. The line of his cheek, the lines around his eyes. She ached with the need to reach out and touch him.

Suddenly Luke picked up his glass and tossed back the dregs of his wine. `Come on,' he said, putting the glass back down with an abrupt click, `We'd better go if we want to catch that flight.'

It was a silent journey back to London. Luke buried himself in a report, and Kate looked out of the window at the blue lightness above the clouds and reminded herself of all the reason: why she shouldn't love him.

It was pointless. It was stupid. It was a complete waste of her life. He wasn't even very nice. She would do far better to fall in love with someone who would appreciate her, like Xavier. The sensible thing to do would be to convince herself that Paris had gone to her head. She would concentrate on her work and forget that Luke was anything other than her boss.

Well, she would try.

CHAPTER EIGHT

FORTUNATELY for Kate, so much needed to be done to finalise details for the new contract that she had little time to think, and when she was able to go into work with a calm pulse and a heart that did no more than lift very slightly when Luke came into the room she decided that she had simply been over-reacting to the excitement of Paris.

She and Luke had slipped into a routine of sheer hard work, and Kate often had to work late, translating or collating documents when the phones stopped ringing at the end of the day. She didn't mind. The longer she worked, the less time she had to think about whom Luke was taking out to dinner.

He seemed tired and preoccupied much of the time, but it didn't stop his going out every night, either with Helen or a girl called Lynette, who rang persistently, usually when Kate was at her busiest.

She and Luke had found an even balance, Kate decided. Apart from one or two notable occasions, Luke was generally polite and treated her as a valued and efficient employee. Kate told herself she was glad. Once or twice she would look up from her word processor and their eyes would meet for a glancing moment before both looked quickly away.

One day Luke came into the office, to find Kate holding a huge bunch of roses and searching for the card.

`Who's been sending you flowers?' he scowled.

Kate opened the envelope and pulled out the card. `They're from Xavier,' she said slowly, reading the message.

'Xavier! What's he doing, sending you flowers?' Luke snatched the card out of her hand. "`Hoping to see you soon, Xavier,"' he read with disgust. `When's he coming?'

`I've no idea,' said Kate. `I'm surprised he didn't mention it on the phone. I speak to him quite often.'

`I hope you're not using the office phone to organise your love-life,' Luke said ungraciously. `I won't have my staff making personal phone calls all day.'

Kate cast him a look of calm reproof. `You know perfectly well that I have to talk to Xavier about business. He's dealing with most of the detail on the contract. It's one of the reasons you employ me, after all, to talk to him about the arrangements in French.'